Sabotage III
by LaSemeuse
Summary: Conclusion to the trilogy. PC cook up their own deception. Starfleet struggles to contain the conspiracy.
1. Default Chapter

The third of the trilogy. You probably at least want to skim the prior stories for some context. Please enjoy - please review! Any comments about the trilogy as a whole are also appreciated.  
  
Of course - Paramount = Q = omnipotent = all fun, no profit.  
  
*************  
  
Sabotage III  
  
Chapter One  
  
*************  
  
Beverly Crusher would never call Jean-Luc Picard an arrogant bastard, but the look in her eyes said it for her. Very few words had actually been exchanged on the bridge of the Enterprise, but the non-verbal communication had spoken volumes. Crusher stood directly in front of the Captain, feet apart, arms crossed, shoulders squared. Picard stood rigidly and silently, having almost leapt from his seat moments earlier. Their eyes were locked. Riker and Troi flanked Picard, still seated and absolutely taken aback. Will thought he'd talked some sense into Picard the day before - but it seems the effect was temporary. He squirmed uncomfortably in his chair, which seemed unusually restrictive. The previous chill between the feuding officers had done an abrupt about-face and was now an all-out explosion of angry emotions.  
  
Troi regarded the pair. The long-ignored spark between them had ignited - there was clearly a lot of passion, but definitely the wrong kind. They tore into each other as none other on the ship would dare. The issue they argued now was trivial - clearly a proxy for the anger between them. The moments separating each verbal attack were filled with heavy silence. Even the steady hum of the engines seemed to fade into the background, while the air crackled with intensity.  
  
From his post at the rear of the bridge, Lieutenant Jack Walker also stared at the exchange. Nothing could have delighted him more. With the entire ship distracted by the fireworks between Captain and CMO, there would be little time for anyone to notice what he was up to. The M'dar had learned well from their Cardassian allies. The mission outline he'd been given had almost worked too well - and by next week he'd be in a far quadrant of the galaxy while the dust of the Enterprise floated through the sector.  
  
Data regarded the scene, nonplussed. The behavior was not what was expected of senior officers, but he had come to learn that the Enterprise was seldom run according to texts and protocol. However, what he witnessed now was extreme, even for disagreements typical of the Captain and Doctor. He glanced around the bridge. The ensign next to him on the conn was seemingly engrossed in calculations, as were the two science officers to the aft. Commander Riker was visibly shaken, as was Counsellor Troi. Lieutenant Walker, while giving the appearance of disinterest, seemed almost pleased. While Data was, of course, incapable of emotion, he surmised that if he could dislike people, he would most certainly dislike Jack Walker.  
  
He was distracted from his study of the bridge officers when Picard suddenly broke the silence. For the past 10 seconds he and Crusher had simply stared at the other, neither willing to blink. Finally, he had caved.  
  
"You will follow my orders, Doctor, or you will be relieved. You are dismissed. Leave my bridge. Now."  
  
Crusher did not move. She uncrossed her arms and placed them firmly on her hips, appearing to defy Picard. It seemed she was not done with the discussion.  
  
Picard simply sat, crossed his legs, and began tapping at a padd resting on the arm of his chair. He would speak no further, and Crusher could not argue with a wall of silence. She would be forced into retreat. The longer she stood, the worse it played for her. Picard had not become a preeminent captain and diplomat without a thorough command of battle tactics.  
  
Crusher knew she'd lost this round, but she would not leave without a parting shot. Her expression changed abruptly, and she now smiled radiantly. Picard did not appear to notice. Crusher turned on her heel, cruised up to Walker, and began to whisper in his ear. Walker became extremely uncomfortable, looked intently at the ground. Crusher's lips danced at his temple, and still grinning, she kissed him on the cheek before gliding off the bridge and on to the lift.  
  
"See you tonite, Jack." With that, the doors swished shut.  
  
The Captain maintained his reserve, but his face was graven and his eyes almost black. The Doctor's parting shot had hit the mark - dead on.  
  
*************  
  
Picard sat tersely in his ready room, practically glaring at the monitor on the table.  
  
"Admiral, have you made any progress with the M'dar situation?"  
  
"Negative, Captain. We're onto their activities on several ships, and all the suspected officers are being closely watched. Unless they're in their quarters, their movements are monitored."  
  
Necheyev sat back in her chair, as a young officer approached and offered her a padd. She studied it, briefly holding a finger up at Picard while she did so. Internally he fumed. He was not an ensign who would wait patiently while Necheyev attended her paperwork. He cleared his throat. Necheyev set down the padd and leveled her gaze back at the monitor. The chain of command between the two was clearly defined. But Picard was not just another Captain, and was often treated with great deference among the admiralty.  
  
"Jean-Luc, I understand your discomfort. But the M'dar have presented themselves as a legitimate guerilla threat, and we desperately need intelligence."  
  
Picard brought a hand to his lips, and sat forward, appearing to speak. He paused for a moment before resting his hands on his table and reclining.  
  
"Understood Admiral. Lieutenant Data has not made significant progress in his research into Walker's activities. However, I have reason to believe that we may discover more information soon. I will relay anything significant as soon as it's available."  
  
"We'll do the same on our end, Captain. We're already processing the information you sent us this morning. Necheyev out." She sat forward briskly and tapped the monitor. It went black, the familiar Starfleet insignia now blankly staring back at Picard.  
  
Picard drummed his fingers on the tabletop and sat otherwise motionless, his countenance somber.  
  
**********  
  
Crusher had spent the morning inundated with broken bones and sprains. The annual Enterprise Paresi Squares tournament was in four days, and practice had reached a fever pitch. Beverly had tried innumerable times to talk Riker out of organizing it, but so far no luck. She'd threatened more than once to make its demise an official medical recommendation and send it into HQ, but somehow Will had talked her out of it. Right now, she couldn't remember what he'd said, but it must have been good.  
  
"Alyssa!"  
  
The spritely nurse appeared momentarily in the doorway. "Yes boss?"  
  
Crusher grinned crookedly, her lips tight. "How's it going out there?"  
  
Powell smiled back "We're recovering. Luckily the holodecks are down for the rest of the day for maintenance. It's buying us some time."  
  
Crusher waved her index finger at Powell. "Alyssa, the very next time I see Will Riker, I'm putting a stop to this. And don't let me back down this time!"  
  
Alyssa gave her a salute. "Aye sir - but Tom might be a little disappointed."  
  
Beverly groaned. "Don't tell me."  
  
Powell shrugged and turned, headed back into the main bay. Crusher rubbed her temples and picked up a padd. The com chirped.  
  
"Lieutenant Walker to Doctor Crusher."  
  
She sat back in her chair and tapped her shoulder. "Crusher here."  
  
"Beverly, I hope you meant what you said on the bridge this morning." His tone was solicitous.  
  
Crusher raised her eyebrow. "Every word of it."  
  
"Well then, my day just got a whole lot brighter, sugar. I'll see you tonite." Walker's voice dripped charm.  
  
Crusher smiled sardonically. "Try to contain yourself until the end of your shift, crewman. We wouldn't want to blow up anything accidentally."  
  
"The only explosions on this ship will be tonite - in my quarters."  
  
"Mmmmm. Well then, I promise I won't be late. Crusher out."  
  
Walker stepped off the turbolift and back onto the bridge, practically beaming. He hadn't even engineered that little battle with Picard. He'd just set the ball in motion by seducing Crusher. The two of them had taken it from there - and man were they running with it. Well, his grandma always used to say that the only way to really hate someone was if you really loved them first. One more for grandma.  
  
"Something you care to share with us, Lieutenant?" Picard's tone was low. He'd practically growled.  
  
Walker cleared his throat and checked his station, standing a bit straighter. That man was getting on his nerves. Hot broad or not, he was itching to get off the ship. "No sir."  
  
Picard tugged on his tunic. "Very well then. As you were."  
  
"Aye sir."  
  
**********  
  
The stalemate between Starfleet and the M'dar dragged at the M'dar homeworld, but Chancellor H'rar sat in his bunker unaffected. They'd moved the military headquarters months previous, and were still in touch with each of their agents. The plan was still in motion, and the Cardassians were massing ships in strategic positions to move in as soon as the first wave of Starfleet ships went down. Additionally, they were feeding faulty intelligence directly to Starfleet, who was already busy monitoring the wrong officers. He allowed himself a small measure of satisfaction. Starfleet had already foiled him once, and he would not underestimate them. This time, they had built in red herrings, redundancy - hopefully it would all be enough to tip the balance of power to the Cardassians. And through them, the M'dar.  
  
**********  
  
Crusher herself could barely make it through her shift. For the fifth time in as many minutes she undid and redid the clips in her long light auburn hair. She still had no intention of letting Riker off the hook, but was glad for the distraction provided by a busy sickbay. Her stomach was doing flip flops as she thought of the evening ahead. There had been quite a scene on the bridge that morning, and she knew Walker would expect to hear about it. They'd have dinner, they'd talk, and after that, well, Crusher hoped their would be wine......  
  
She glanced at the chronometer at the bottom of her station. Walker would be by any minute.  
  
"How's my beautiful Doctor doing this fine evening?" Right on cue. Crusher looked up. There he was - tanned, toned, and waiting for her. Internally she shuddered.  
  
"I'm great - how was your shift?" Beverly favored him with what she hoped was a wining smile as she unclipped her hair. She put the clips in the pocket of her lab coat, and unconsciously fingered the hypo there. She hoped she wouldn't need it later.  
  
"Well it was a long day - but I feel just fine now." Walker came over and put an arm around her, guiding her out from behind the desk and toward the door. She leaned on his shoulder as they left, for all the world appearing to be a couple in love.  
  
They went back to Walker's quarters. They'd eaten a fabulous meal, and Beverly almost forgot her discomfort. The man was charming.  
  
"So, if I can ask, what happened on the bridge this morning?" Walker took her hand and gazed at her inquisitively.  
  
Laughing, Beverly shook her head and looked away. She waved her hand dismissively. "It was nothing. I'm just so tired of Jean Luc Picard telling everyone how to do their job. Honestly Walker, I just don't know how much longer I can live like this." She became quiet and introspective, gazing toward the viewport.  
  
"Beverly." Walker's eyes were wide, and again he took her hand. "Beverly, I think you know how I feel about you. I'd hate for you to leave the ship."  
  
"I know. I'm getting used to seeing you around myself." She smiled slightly and squeezed his hand. Suddenly, her expression turned sour, and she became quite pale.  
  
"Beverly, is something wrong?" Walker gazed at her in concern. It would not do to have her sick - he'd be vulnerable to Picard if Beverly were out of commission.  
  
"Yes, I think I'm OK. Excuse me," she mumbled weakly. Crusher rose abruptly and rushed toward the bathroom. Within minutes, Walker heard the unmistakable sounds of someone who was extremely ill. He got up and knocked on the door.  
  
"Beverly, are you all right?"  
  
"I think so - but I need to get to sickbay, ASAP. Can you please call nurse Powell to escort me?"  
  
"Sure - but I can take you down."  
  
"Walker thank you - you're sweet." The doors parted, and Crusher leaned on the doorframe, a distinct green tinge to her usually creamy, but now mottled, complexion. She patted him on the shoulder. "But Alyssa can bring a medkit to get me stabilized for the trip. I'd like to not make a scene on the way."  
  
"OK - sure. Hold on."  
  
Minutes later, and two more trips to the head for Doctor Crusher, Powell appeared. "Doctor - are you alright?" She seemed curious and concerned.  
  
Crusher nodded slightly. "I'll live, but I've certainly felt better."  
  
"Can you walk?"  
  
"Yes - just give me 5cc's of prednisine to get rid of the nausea."  
  
"Sure thing." Alyssa loaded the hypo, and they headed toward the door. Walker gently took Crusher's arm.  
  
"Beverly, let me know how you turn out."  
  
She smiled wanly. "Sure thing - but don't wait up - I'm headed back to my quarters. I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "Be well."  
  
The two women headed slowly down the corridor, the taller leaning heavily on the petite brunette.  
  
**********  
  
"Thanks Alyssa. I'm sure I'll be fine now. Just something I ate." The excuse sounded pathetic, even as she spoke. Crusher sat on the biobed, tricorder in hand.  
  
"I'm still not sure why you got sick, Doctor." Alyssa favored her with a distinctly skeptical glance.  
  
"Just one of those things." Beerly shrugged. Now Powell new something was up - Crusher would never accept such a vague diagnosis for any patient. But she trusted her CMO, and knew she valued her privacy.  
  
"Just please call if you have any other symptoms. And get some rest. I don't expect to see you here until mid-shift tomorrow." She looked stern. "I mean that. Whatever it was really did a number on your stomach."  
  
'Don't I know it,' Crusher thought to herself. She had cooked up an herbal drug to induce nausea, but apparently she'd gone a little overboard. She slid down off the bed and headed for the door. "See you tomorrow Alyssa. And thank you." She waved her hand as she called over her shoulder.  
  
As quickly as she could she hurried toward the lift. "Computer, time?"  
  
"0100 hours."  
  
Beverly would almost be late. She repeatedly pushed the call button for the lift. It wouldn't get it there any faster, but it did make her feel better.  
  
***********  
  
"Deck 2." Jean Luc Picard stood in the lift, still in his uniform. It was beginning to scratch him at the collar. He drummed his fingers at his sides. Realizing that his nerves were showing, he abruptly stopped, as did the lift. He exited and headed toward the arboretum. He was late.  
  
Standing at the entrance, he glanced down the hallway toward the lift. "Computer, current occupants of the arboretum?"  
  
"Doctor Beverly Crusher is in the arboretum."  
  
He stepped forward and the pneumatic doors swooshed open. It was almost pitch black. He heard nothing but the hum of the engines and the artificial waterfall at the back of the ship's gardens.  
  
"Computer, lights, 25%." He walked forward along the path. He saw Crusher reclining on a bench near the water.  
  
"Beverly?" He moved toward her and sat down next to her.  
  
"Ugh." Crusher groaned. "Jean Luc, we've got to stop meeting like this."  
  
"Beverly, you look awful."  
  
"Please Captain, I'm blushing." She chuckled.  
  
Picard put his hand on her forehead. "Beverly, do you have a fever? Should we be in sickbay?"  
  
"Already been there Jean Luc, got my walking papers minutes ago. It wasn't easy to fool Alyssa - or to get her to stop questioning me. You've got quite a medical staff on this ship."  
  
"I should think so. They work for you, after all."  
  
"Now that's better. I like a little flattery with my surreptitious late night meetings. Honestly though, I don't know how long I can do this. Walker will get suspicious if I keep throwing up after dinner every nite."  
  
"Throwing up? Beverly, what did you do to yourself?" Picard leaned in and took her hand, concerned. This time, Beverly felt genuinely comforted.  
  
"I had to make it convincing. I think I went overboard." She leaned back and closed her eyes. Picard ran his hand over her temple and down her jaw. She seemed very fragile.  
  
Gently she took his hand and set it back at his lap. "Like I said Jean Luc, a furlough." She regarded him sternly. "I am certainly glad to see you. But you're on probation."  
  
Picard sat forward and adjusted his tunic. "Beverly, I am merely concerned about a member of my crew who is taking on a rather difficult assignment. And, after your performance on the bridge today, I think you owe me one." With that he smiled.  
  
Crusher met his gaze and smiled back. "I know. I'm good, aren't I?"  
  
"You had Will *and* Deanna convinced. And, at times, myself as well." He wagged a finger at her.  
  
Eyebrows arched, Beverly regarded him. "The important thing is that Walker was convinced."  
  
"And?"  
  
"As far as I can tell, mission accomplished."  
  
Picard shifted again, facing the water. "Beverly, I'm still not sure about the wisdom of this endeavor. You could easily be hurt."  
  
"Too late Jean-Luc. I've been hurt already." She smiled crookedly, her eyes a million miles away. "Now I want to nail that bastard." Her skin was no longer pale, but now flushed. "And, even Starfleet Command acknowledges that we need this intelligence. I'm in a good position to get it. Besides, it's rather cloak and dagger - it puts Dixon Hill to shame." Her eyes twinkled. "Not that I miss seeing you in that adorable fedora."  
  
"Certainly not." Picard sighed heavily and leaned forward. He tilted his head and gazed at the prone physician. His tone was somber. "Have you found anything new?"  
  
"Not yet. I've been busy with other things in sickbay, thanks to Will Riker and his Paresi Squares obsession." Crusher's tone was infinitely sarcastic. Picard chuckled richly. "I'm still trying to isolate the compound in Walker's arm, and I've got Data on it too. I think he suspects our charade, Jean Luc."  
  
"Lieutenant Commander Data is the soul of discretion. I trust him to keep our plan safe. But I'll speak to him about it in the morning."  
  
"I think that would be wise. He was quite puzzled about my investigation into Walker. As far as he knows, you and Riker are the only other two who are suspicious of the Lieutenant."  
  
Talk of their conspiracy against Walker expired, and a cloak of uncomfortable silence descended. They had not resolved the origins of their original conflict, but instead had chosen to focus on defeating Walker and the M'dar. Now they had little to say.  
  
Droplets from the waterfall quietly sprayed the nearby flora, which gave off a subtly pleasing aroma. In the dim lighting, it was difficult to make out anything more than a meter away. Two silhouettes sat motionless in the early morning, both consumed by swirling emotions. Beverly was still upset with Picard, but she could not deny that she did not want to leave yet. It was hard pretending to care for Walker, and being next to Jean Luc was comforting - it made her feel strong. Picard had not stopped wanting to pursue a relationship with Crusher, and it was difficult to maintain the distance that she demanded.  
  
"Well." Crusher rose and stretched. She recognized that he would not leave until she was ready. She did love him dearly. "It's late Jean Luc."  
  
"Yes." He also stood, now facing Crusher. He took her hands in his. "Beverly, please be careful. Whatever you may think of me now, I consider you one of my best friends, and I would be hard-pressed to think of my life on this ship without you."  
  
She cupped his face in her hand, and gazed directly into his eyes. "We've come through so much Jean Luc. And we have so much to look forward to. I wouldn't want to miss that." Her pale skin seemed luminescent in the low light. She leaned in and kissed his cheek firmly, then quickly pulled back. "But, like I said...... you're not off the hook just yet." She patted his cheek and then walked past him toward the door. Before leaving, she turned. "And Jean Luc, I'm sorry."  
  
"For what Doctor?" His voice was thick and his eyes merry.  
  
"You'll find out soon." She left him to no time to respond as she exited, labcoat flowing behind her. Picard exhaled, paused, and then strolled through the arboretum until he knew she'd have time to get to the lift. Shaking his head, he ordered the lights down and departed.  
  
************** 


	2. SabotageTwo

**************  
  
Sabotage III Chapter Two  
  
**************  
  
"Crusher to Data."  
  
"Data here Doctor, what can I do for you?"  
  
"Can I see you in my office for a moment?"  
  
"I'll be right there."  
  
Crusher had spent the following morning trying to isolate the substance Lieutenant Walker had smuggled onboard bodily, with little success. After a fitful sleep, she'd given in and headed to her shift only an hour late. Powell gave her a dirty look as she'd entered, and Beverly had merely held up a hand to ward off the chastising as she walked into her office. But she'd been undisturbed the entire time. Likely Alyssa had ratted her out to the attending physician, who'd given orders she not be disturbed.  
  
Data entered. Beverly stood and secured the doors. She placed her arm through the android's and guided him to the chair opposite her desk. She took her own chair and leaned in conspiratorialy. Data mimicked her actions.  
  
"Data, I trust Jean Luc spoke with you this morning?"  
  
"Yes Doctor. He explained that you are aiding in the attempt to gather evidence against Lieutenant Walker. And that you and the Captain must appear to strongly dislike each other."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"In that case I must say that I commend your performance on the bridge yesterday. It was very convincing."  
  
"Well, that's why I've asked you here today. I need your help, Data." Crusher lowered her voice as she spoke, and leaned further forward.  
  
Data leaned forward even more, and the two were now inches from the other. He lowered his voice as well. "I would be happy to help Doctor. What is required?"  
  
**********  
  
"Good morning Admiral Necheyev. To what do I owe the pleasure?"  
  
"Our scientists have been able to isolate the substance Doctor Crusher discovered in Lieutenant Walker."  
  
Picard arched both eyebrows. "By all means, Admiral, continue."  
  
"It's harmless." Necheyev dropped the bomb and sat back. Picard simply waited in grim silence.  
  
"Nothing more than an innocuous organic suspension. However, we do believe it was designed to lead us astray - Crusher shouldn't feel too badly."  
  
"I doubt she'll find the news comforting."  
  
Now Necheyev leaned forward, her voice dropping in tone and pitch. "May I ask, Captain, how Doctor Crusher came to be investigating Lieutenant Walker in the first place?"  
  
"You can always ask, Admiral." Picard's stoic face betrayed nothing. Neither spoke.  
  
"You have many friends at Starfleet, Picard, but you haven't got carte blanche." She paused to add gravity to her statement. "But the issue of the day is the M'dar. It appears that we now have nothing on Walker but circumstance. If he is carrying a weapon, we have yet to discover it. And if he's not, then we're back to square one."  
  
"You're just full of good news today, aren't you Admiral?"  
  
Necheyev smiled primly. "Just keeping you on your toes out there. Now is there anyone on your ship who doesn't know about the investigation into Walker and the M'dar?"  
  
What a viper that woman was. Picard winced internally, but merely replied, "only three of my senior staff are involved in the matter. I trust them each implicitly."  
  
"I must renew my order that you keep this information confidential. And ask that you discreetly expand your investigation. Walker's up to something. All other ships in the fleet will be following the same protocol."  
  
"Very well. I'll keep you apprised." Picard was terse.  
  
"We'll be in touch. Necheyev out."  
  
A conversation with Alayna Necheyev never failed to put Picard in an abysmal mood. He turned back to his station and began typing a message to Beverly. She would not be pleased.  
  
*********  
  
Crusher was perplexed. Now she could not bring herself to believe that Walker *wasn't* somehow tied into the M'dar conspiracy. The analysis from Starfleet was conclusive, but Beverly wasn't able to let it go. She turned back to her console and began her research anew, starting with what they'd discovered on Hepa III. The M'dar had invested a lot into that project. She doubted they would simply abandon it. Even if what Walker was carrying in him wasn't a weapon, it wasn't naturally occurring. It was there for a reason.  
  
"And what do we have here?" Crusher chewed at the end of her stylus and murmured to herself. "I thought so." The chemical was inactive in its current state, but was a clear derivative of the compounds extracted from Hepa III. And it was possible that, when combined with a catalyst, it would have multiple uses - several of them destructive. "Bingo."  
  
She turned to the chronometer. Her research would have to wait. She had a "date" with Picard in 10 Forward. He should be joining Data for an early dinner in mere minutes. She'd had something up her sleeve already, but the communiqué she'd received this morning opened the door even wider.  
  
She grabbed her labcoat and glided out the door.  
  
*********  
  
Picard walked into 10 Forward and was immediately greeted by Data, who lead him over to a table near the center of the lounge.  
  
"I must say Data, I was surprised by your dinner invitation."  
  
Data attempted to smile casually. The effect was sadly comical. "I have an important matter to discuss with you, Captain."  
  
"Well then, Mr. Data, fire away." Picard sat back and placed a napkin in his lap. A waiter passed by, and Picard ordered a cup of tea.  
  
"For quite some time, I have been reading a 'Christmas Carol,' by the Earth author Charles Dickens. I assume you have read it, sir?"  
  
"Yes Data, I'm quite familiar with the material. Is this the urgent matter you needed to discuss?" Picard found that hard to believe. At that very moment, however, he saw Beverly Crusher stride into the room. One look at Data confirmed his suspicions. He'd been set-up. The moment she spotted Picard, she made right for the table, trouble in her eyes.  
  
She sat down and crossed her long legs, the picture of calm. She ignored Data and spoke directly to Picard. Her tone was low and glacial. "What the hell was that you sent me this morning?"  
  
"I was simply relaying information from Starfleet, Doctor Crusher. I had no control over the content." He adopted a dismissive air. Where the hell was she going with this?  
  
She still spoke barely above a whisper, but her posture was accusatory. "What you were doing, Captain, was implying that my research was inferior."  
  
"I assure you I meant nothing of the sort, Doctor." Their voices had not raised, but the intensity between the two attracted the attention of every crew member in the lounge. Picard was cringing inside. Their waiter set their drink order in front of them and beat a hasty retreat.  
  
"You're assurances don't carry much weight in my office anymore, Captain," Beverly hissed.  
  
He paused and cleared his throat, taking a drink and replacing his tea on the table. "That is your problem. If you are dissatisfied with your situation, I can arrange for another." His voice was low, but incredibly stern. His insinuation was clear.  
  
Crusher stood abruptly, took a step back, and now raised her voice. "I have worked too hard and come too far to allow you to have me transferred to some meaningless desk job. And I will not have you, of all people, questioning the caliber of my work."  
  
She'd upped the ante. Picard responded in kind. "Your 'work' is hardly the question, Doctor Crusher." His voice dripped sarcasm.  
  
Crusher now stood over Picard, arms crossed, color high in her cheeks. The table was a step below where she currently stood, giving the appearance that she towered over him. Her eyes flashed as she looked at Picard, then the table. Her left eyebrow shot up. Picard's expression was calm. There was little she could say without risking a charge of insubordination. She'd already gone farther than he'd allow anyone else. A fact that was well- known on the ship.  
  
Crusher abruptly changed tactics, smiling sweetly. "Well Captain, if you feel that way. I guess I can't ask for much more than your unquestioning support." She leaned forward as if to walk away, but surprisingly lost her footing. Years of dance training made her seem graceful even as she lost her balance over the small step. Her arms went out to steady her through the fall. Sweeping them forward, Picard's tea went flying from the table and splashed across the front of his tunic. It all happened quickly, and he'd had no time to react. Data, however, had been up in a split second, and was already steadying the Doctor before she'd fallen completely. Within seconds, it was over. Picard knew the story would be throughout the ship in an hour.  
  
There was no mistaking the merriment in Crusher's eyes. "Jean Luc, I'm *so* sorry. How could I have been so clumsy?"  
  
The mortified waiter had appeared with a towel, and Picard began to clean himself off. The tea was uncomfortably hot. Dryly, he responded.  
  
"I doubt anyone would ever accuse you of being clumsy, Beverly." His look and tone were dangerous. The other occupants of the lounge were blatantly staring. "You will report to my ready room within the hour." There was an inaudible gasp from the spectators. Picard stood crisply and left the lounge. As soon as he'd cleared the door, a grin played at his lips. What would that woman do next? Still, it was a bit more of a public scene than he was really comfortable with, and his reprimand would need to be stern, and public as well, lest he lose all control over his ship. His patience with this situation was wearing thin.  
  
**********  
  
Beverly quickly guided Data out of 10 Forward. She could hardly contain her laughter until she was in the lift.  
  
Crusher took a minute to compose herself. "Bridge." She turned. "Thank you Data. I couldn't have pulled that off without you."  
  
The android's pale eyes seemed concerned, and his brows were furrowed. "Are you quite sure that the Captain will not be angry, Doctor?"  
  
"I gave him fair warning, Data. And if he's at all upset, I promise it won't be with you."  
  
"Very well Doctor. But I will be glad when this business with Lieutenant Walker is concluded."  
  
Beverly clapped him on the shoulder. He looked down at her hand quizzically. "That makes two of us, my friend." The lift came to a stop. She leaned to whisper in his ear. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go deal with the Captain."  
  
The bridge staff turned to the lift as Crusher and Data exited. The Captain had stalked through minutes before, and news of the scene in 10 Forward had already made its way to the bridge.  
  
Beverly nodded to a bewildered Riker and Troi before tapping the chime to the Captain's ready room.  
  
***********  
  
"I've got good news, Jean Luc." Crusher strolled in and took a seat on Picard's couch.  
  
"Apology accepted, Beverly." Picard looked up from his station and regarded her seriously.  
  
"Now Jean Luc, I apologized last night." She tried to look contrite, but could only do so for a minute before she began to giggle. Picard was unmoved. "You should have seen the look on your face! I hope the tea wasn't too hot." Crusher's face was serious again as she rose and pulled a tricorder from her pocket. She began scanning the large, wet blotch on Picard's chest.  
  
"Fortunately for you, it wasn't." Picard had waited to change his tunic for effect. As Beverly sat opposite the desk, he retreated to his restroom, where he promptly changed into a casual duty uniform. "Now, what was it you were saying about good news?"  
  
"I reviewed what Starfleet sent this morning. They were correct in deducing that the isolated material in Lieutenant Walker is inert in its current stage. But I believe that it's meant to be combined with another agent. Which means that Walker's got another trick up his sleeve"  
  
The Captain jumped in. "Or he's working with an accomplice."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Good work Doctor. But perhaps next time a simple note would do." He tilted his head and raised his eyebrow.  
  
"But Jean Luc, it's so much more fun this way." She smiled flirtatiously. "We haven't had breakfast or dinner in weeks," she pouted.  
  
"Are you saying you miss me, Beverly?" He sat back in his chair and steepled his hands. The game was once again afoot. It felt warm and familiar, but it too, was growing old.  
  
"Perhaps just a little. But don't let it go to your head." She wagged a finger at the Captain, who appeared appropriately chastised. "Now. What are we going to do about Walker and the M'dar?"  
  
"I'm sorry Beverly, but it seems we have no choice but to maintain the charade. Please forward me your report, so I can pass it on to Admiral Necheyev. And for now....."  
  
"It's back to the briar patch." Crusher was glum. "I want some serious shore leave for this, Jean Luc. I don't know how long I can keep fending off Walker's advances without appearing suspicious." She twisted the knife. "He's very forward." Her eyes were wide with feigned innocence.  
  
Picard shrugged it off. "Perhaps I can help in your struggle to be, shall we say, 'liberated.'"  
  
"How chivalrous. And no ulterior motive?" Beverly's eyes twinkled.  
  
"You may have forgotten that a certain CMO recently dumped a cup of tea in my lap in a very public place. That kind of display cannot be overlooked." Picard came forward and leaned on the desk directly in front of Crusher.  
  
"I don't like where this is going, Jean Luc." she tilted her head and looked up.  
  
"You'll like it even less in a minute." He crossed his arms and smiled. "If I'm correct, the Paresi Squares tournament begins tomorrow."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And it runs from 0800 to 2000 each day for a week?"  
  
"I believe so."  
  
"I see." Picard tapped his chest. "Commander Riker, will you please join me and Doctor Crusher in my ready room for a moment?"  
  
Momentarily Riker responded. "Yes sir, right away." He glanced at Deanna. Both had been insanely curious about what was happening between the Captain and Doctor since she'd strutted in minutes ago. Now that he had the opportunity to see first hand, he was more than apprehensive.  
  
The ready room doors parted. Riker entered, eyes focused on the Captain. He did not dare to look at Beverly, who seemed extremely nervous, gazing at Picard with trepidation.  
  
"Can I help you sir?" Riker stood at attention, arms behind his back.  
  
"Yes Will. Doctor Crusher and I were just discussing the Paresi Squares tournament." Thinking of the Earl Grey bath he'd received earlier, Picard smiled ferociously at Beverly.  
  
Riker grimaced. It was not Crusher's favorite subject. He had to pull a new con every year just to keep her from canceling it.  
  
"I believe, Commander, that there is some friction between you and the Doctor regarding the tournament. And I endeavor at all times to maintain harmony on the ship. I believe that Doctor Crusher would benefit from further study of the subject." He looked pointedly at Crusher, then back at Riker. "Therefore, I am asking that she officially observe the entire tournament this year, and after draft a thorough report for making the it safer. This will ensure that her fears are allayed," he looked again at Beverly, walked over to Will and laid a hand on his shoulder, "and that the tournament can continue as long as you're willing to organize it Number One." He smiled as though he'd just won the tournament himself.  
  
Riker looked nervously from Picard to Crusher. It was certainly a mixed blessing. "Aye sir. If that's all?" Will wanted out of that room as soon as possible.  
  
"That's all Will. Beverly will see you first thing in the morning." The tall Commander nodded his head and retreated hastily.  
  
Picard walked back over to his desk and sat down again. He gave Beverly a challenging look. "Problem solved, Doctor. You'll be quite unavailable for social engagements."  
  
"So it seems." She stood and thrust her hands into her lab coat. "Very clever, Jean Luc."  
  
"You'll be busy all week, and for a few days after drafting your report - and I did say thorough."  
  
"If you're not careful Captain, your next physical will be extremely thorough," she shot back, no humor in her voice.  
  
Picard smiled and raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms behind his head.  
  
"And I won't be the one to administer it." Crusher whipped around and walked out.  
  
***********  
  
"Ringside at the Paresi Squares tournament? All week?" Walker was visibly disappointed, and incredulous at the same time. On any other ship, an officer would be relieved for a stunt like the one in 10 Forward that afternoon. She'd really cowed Picard, he thought.  
  
"I'm afraid so. Frankly, I'm surprised he didn't send me to the brig. But it won't be long before I'm out of here." She placed their dinner dishes in the recycler and stood over Walker, who was sprawled comfortably on his couch. "Now walk me to my quarters, kind sir."  
  
Again Walker's face was scrawled with disappointment. He hadn't scored in days. "What?"  
  
"You heard me, mister. I've got a load of work to get done by 0800 tomorrow if I'm going to be tied up all day." Crusher's hands were on her hips.  
  
"Alright. But I'm beginning to have my own disagreements with Picard." He grumbled and stood.  
  
"Well, why don't you just tell him that when you report tomorrow morning." She stood as tall as she could and threw back her shoulders, lowering her voice to imitate Walker. "Captain, I've got a bone to pick with you. Your discipline is interfering with my sex life." Her face was stern.  
  
Walker laughed. "Well, it's the truth." He grabbed her around the waist, lifted her off her feet and kissed her deeply. After a minute he pulled back and set her down. "Are you sure you can't stay for just a while?"  
  
She touched a finger to his lips. "Mmmm. I wish I could." 'Thank you, Jean- Luc, for getting me out of this' she thought internally. "But I think I've gotten away with about as much as I can for now."  
  
They smiled at each other as they headed out the door, his arm again around her waist.  
  
**********  
  
As the doors closed behind Crusher and Walker, a blue column shimmered in his cabin. After materializing, Data immediately opened a tricorder and headed directly for the bedroom. Doctor Crusher had come to him that afternoon with evidence that a catalyst was needed to activate whatever Walker had smuggled onboard. Data had spent the following hours studying Walker's quarters, and had isolated three objects that might house the agent. He began his search.  
  
Removing the mattress from the bed, Data discovered a compartment in the base, which he opened. It contained a box, which he also promptly opened. Data postulated that at this moment he might be feeling anxiousness, and possibly guilt over searching a fellow officer's quarters without their consent. He reasoned as well that the justifications for his actions were legitimized by Walker's own actions.  
  
The box contained several holopics, all of them properly functioning and displaying what he guessed were Walker's family. He carefully replaced the box and mattress, and moved back into the living area. An automated alarm grabbed his attention. "Lieutenant Walker has left Doctor Crusher's quarters." Data promptly made for the couch, where he removed the far left cushion. Pulling back the fabric on the base, he located another compartment, which contained a slender box. He opened it and this time discovered a hypo. Unable to test the contents with his tricorder, he quickly replicated another and placed the double in the box. He tapped his shoulder. "Transporter room three. One to beam directly to my quarters." He shimmered away only shortly before the doors opened and Walker strolled in.  
  
Glancing around, the Lieutenant cocked his head to the side. His quarters felt different. He listened to his gut. "Computer, has anyone been in my quarters since I left with Doctor Crusher?"  
  
The computer emitted a familiar chirp indicating that it was unable to process his request. He asked again. Moments later, it responded. "Negative."  
  
Unconvinced, he walked over to the sofa and removed the left cushion. He opened the compartment he'd created, and the box hidden within. Nothing seemed askew. He replaced it all and made for the bedroom, sighing. "I'm just about ready to blow this pop stand."  
  
***********  
  
Crusher had been pacing her cabin when the comm finally chirped.  
  
"Lieutenant Data to Doctor Crusher."  
  
She replied quickly. "Crusher here Data. Were you successful?"  
  
He replied in his typically passive tone. "I believe so Doctor. Will you join me in my quarters to test what I have found?"  
  
"On my way Data." She grabbed her lab coat from the back of a chair and flew out the door.  
  
When she arrived, Data had already lodged the purloined hypo into his station and begun to study the readings.  
  
"What've we got, Data?" Crusher placed a hand on his shoulder and leaved over, reading the findings on the screen.  
  
"Unclear Doctor. The analysis may take several hours."  
  
Crusher stood and rubbed her lower back. "I'll be on the couch if you need me."  
  
**********  
  
Early that morning, Crusher woke stiffly to see Data standing over her.  
  
Closing her eyes, she mumbled thickly. "Just tell me we've got him, Data."  
  
The android explained his discoveries, and Crusher was, by this time, wide awake.  
  
"I guess we'd better call the Captain." She stood and tapped her badge. "Crusher to Picard." Given the hour, she doubted he'd have company. At least he'd better not.  
  
A moment later he responded groggily. "Picard here, Doctor."  
  
"Please join me in Data's quarters, Jean-Luc. I think he's found something."  
  
"Very well. Picard out." He cut the link abruptly.  
  
Data favored Crusher with a skeptical look.  
  
"Don't worry Data." She lowered her voice. "Don't forget - we're not actually fighting."  
  
"I understand Doctor."  
  
**************** 


	3. SabotageThree

**********  
  
Sabotage III Chapter Three  
  
**********  
  
After reporting to the bridge for his shift and ensuring that all was well, Will Riker made his way to holodeck three to meet Doctor Crusher before the Paresi Squares tournament began. Picard had already been on deck when he'd arrived, and the Captain appeared extremely haggard. But he was no match for the exhausted and disheveled Beverly Crusher that stood before Will when he arrived. Her hair was dull and pulled back in an uncharacteristic ponytail. Her lab coat was rumpled but her uniform was clearly fresh. Though she typically wore very little, this morning she wore no make up.  
  
Ordinarily spritely, in this state Crusher's age showed. Riker could see the lines on her face that betrayed the trials of her existence, and the obstacles she'd surmounted in reaching the heights she had in her career. She was a beautiful woman, and he had to admit to himself that the starkness of her appearance leant an honesty to her countenance that was extremely compelling. She rarely appeared around the ship in this raw state. Will felt like he'd been caught looking at something he shouldn't - the real Beverly Crusher.  
  
He came forward and took her by the elbow. "Beverly - how are you?" He tilted his head and gazed with concern into her eyes.  
  
Her voice was a contrast to her appearance. "I'm fine Will, if not a little sleep deprived. We'll just see how you feel when I'm done with my report on this little tournament of yours."  
  
Will was quick with a smile in return. "Now Beverly, I believe the Captain meant for us to work *together* on this to ensure we might continue with a safer tournament in the future."  
  
"Keep talking, Commander," she responded sarcastically.  
  
"Beverly, let's be reasonable." He gave her his most sincere look.  
  
He got nothing in return but a piercing blue gaze. The aura of auburn hair that typically softened the angles of her face was gone, and Riker found himself wondering how Wesley or Picard had ever had the guts to stand up to this woman. He swiftly changed tactics.  
  
Drawing himself to full height, he tugged on his tunic. "In that case, I'll stop trying to persuade you. But I won't let you talk me out of taking you to 10 Forward for breakfast and a strong cup of coffee." He extended his arm. "On me."  
  
"Now we're getting somewhere, Will" She smiled, wearing her victory humbly. Riker felt relief wash over him as she took the proffered arm.  
  
The exchange had left Riker emotionally drained. He gazed incredulously at the wild creature that walked beside him. Starfleet should look at recruiting her for their diplomatic corps. In a direct Crusher/Tomalok match-up, he'd lay a year's worth of credits on the fair redhead any day.  
  
*********  
  
The tournament proceeded as expected all week, though some participants were clearly unnerved by the unwavering glare of the CMO. Over protests from Beverly, Walker had entered and was in the final bracket, accompanied by several members of his security team. Riker had recently been ousted. Technically uncanny and clever, Riker was a bit past his physical prime for the tournament. Nonetheless, he received a rousing round of applause after he descended from his final round.  
  
He took a seat next to Crusher, who immediately began to gently prod at his left elbow, which had received a spectacular blow.  
  
"Ow." Riker winced.  
  
"Feels like there's no serious damage." Crusher eyed him somberly. "But I want you to report to sickbay tomorrow morning for physical therapy."  
  
Riker nodded glumly.  
  
"You're lucky, Will. I've seen enough to shut this all down outright. As it is, I'll be recommending that all tournaments in the future will be attended by a medical supervisor who will assess participants as they finish each round, and make medical recommendations."  
  
Riker sat back wearily and sighed. "Of course Doctor." He was in no mood, or condition, to argue.  
  
It was announced that the tournament would be closed for the afternoon, and would reconvene that evening for the final rounds. It was to be held in the main cargo bay, and much of the ship was expected to attend. Riker and Crusher stood and filed out with the rest of the gallery. Walker made his way over to them and took Beverly's arm.  
  
"Join me for lunch?" He flashed a charming smile.  
  
Riker regarded him with unabashed skepticism. Beverly was about to respond when Walker's comm. chirped.  
  
"Picard to Lieutenant Walker. Please report immediately to my ready room."  
  
Walker shrugged and tapped his chest. "Right away sir."  
  
He gave Beverly a peck on the cheek and took her hands. "Guess I'll have to get a raincheck."  
  
Crusher looked back coolly, a curious smile on her lips. "Yes."  
  
Riker turned to Crusher as Walker hurried off. "What was that all about?"  
  
Crusher took his arm and lead him toward the lift, through the now empty corridor. "Have I got a story for you, Will Riker."  
  
*********  
  
"Hello Lieutenant." Picard sat behind his desk. He did not rise as Walker entered.  
  
"Captain. What can I do for you sir?" Picard had not offered Walker a seat. The dynamic in the room clearly favored Picard. The young Lieutenant shifted his weight and cleared his throat. He was uncomfortable with the silence.  
  
"I understand you're doing quite well in the tournament, Lieutenant." Picard sat comfortably reclined in his chair, legs crossed and hands clasped on his lap.  
  
"Yes sir. But I'm guessin' that's not the reason you've called me here." Walker cleared his throat again.  
  
"Very astute, Mr. Walker. Now, can you guess the reason I did call you here?"  
  
"No sir." Walker stood at attention, arms behind his back. Picard let the silence hang.  
  
"Please, Lieutenant, sit." Picard motioned toward the opposite chair with his arm. As Walker sat, Picard stood. He walked out from behind his desk and began slowly pacing around the nervous officer.  
  
"You've had quite the run of my ship during your time here, Mr. Walker." Picard came to a stop directly in front of Walker, leaning back against the desk, arms down, palms flat on the smooth surface.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Chief of Security on the Enterprise is a prestigious post. And you've made yourself very comfortable while onboard." Picard straightened and tugged his uniform. "A prestigious post indeed, Lieutenant." He began to pace again. Walker appeared extremely nervous. "But you have abused that privilege, Mr. Walker. And I will not, for one more minute, allow that abuse to continue."  
  
Walker knew when he was caught. He also knew that he was in a place to make a deal - and that Starfleet "correctional" facilities weren't so bad once you got used to them - especially if you knew the right people.  
  
"Too bad for you Starfleet Command is so desperate for intelligence." Walker sneered.  
  
Picard turned, a feigned look of surprise on his face. "Is that so, Mr. Walker?"  
  
"You know as well as I do that Starfleet is hungry for anything they can get on the M'dar. It's probably why you've been giving me the run of the house for so long. But not that I haven't enjoyed it." Walker finished the last comment with a wink.  
  
Picard wished again that Worf were still onboard. Then again, he wasn't sure Walker would be better off with the surly Klingon than the officer who was about to join the interrogation.  
  
The Captain tapped his comm. "Dr. Crusher, could you join us please?"  
  
Moments later Beverly waltzed through the door, ignoring Walker completely. "Yes Captain?"  
  
"I've been having a chat with Mr. Walker here." Picard nodded at the man.  
  
"Oh?" Crusher seemed to notice him for the first time.  
  
"Indeed. Mr. Walker believes he has information that we may find valuable." The conversation between the two was as casual as any they might have had over breakfast that morning.  
  
"Does he?" Crusher walked over to stand beside the Captain. Both eyed Walker the way a cat might as it closed in on its prey. "That's interesting. Because I believe I have information that Mr. Walker might find *extremely* valuable." With that, she pulled a hypo out of her lab coat, and offered the cylinder to Picard. He picked it up, studied it, and handed it back.  
  
"And what might that be, Doctor?" Picard's eyes never left Walker's as he spoke.  
  
Walker's eyes were darting nervously from the Captain to the Doctor's as each of them spoke. Suddenly he felt a lot less cocky.  
  
"As you may already know, Jean-Luc, Lieutenant Walker began his list of transgressions by smuggling a foreign substance onto the Enterprise. The substance itself is innocuous." Now it was Crusher's turn to circle. As she did so, she let a hand glide over Walker's shoulder.  
  
"Well that's hardly a crime, Doctor." Picard appeared unmoved.  
  
"Suspicious, yes. But criminal, no." Beverly resumed her position at Picard's side. "However, I had a hunch that the material might become hazardous if exposed to the right catalyst. Toxic, certainly, and powerfully explosive under the right conditions."  
  
"Now we're getting somewhere, Doctor. Please continue." Picard crossed his arms.  
  
"Here's where it gets tricky. So pay attention." She glared at Walker. "Lieutenant Data conducted a search of the Lieutenant's quarters, and discovered this hypospray." She held up the offending object. "It's my theory that Lieutenant Walker was preparing to extract the substance suspended in his arm, leak it into the warp core, and at the opportune time, also inject the catalyst."  
  
"Dastardly indeed, Doctor! Mr. Walker, is this true?"  
  
"No sir, not one word of it." Walker hadn't heard anything yet that could convince him to take the fall for the M'dar. Right now all they could do was kick him out of Starfleet. He'd get a free ride back to earth.  
  
Picard turned to Crusher. "Well Doctor, there you have it."  
  
"It seems I was wrong. How could I have been so foolish?"  
  
Walker grinned smugly.  
  
Picard spoke grimly. "Something you'd like to share, Lieutenant?"  
  
"No sir."  
  
"Jean-Luc!" Beverly seemed startled by a revelation.  
  
"Yes Doctor?"  
  
"I've got an idea." Crusher began to pace again, rolling the hypo between her hands. "If I'm so far off the mark, then surely the Lieutenant wouldn't mind if I injected him with whatever's in this hypo?"  
  
"Certainly not. Lieutenant?"  
  
Now Walker got a little hot. He began to stand up, but Crusher caught his shoulder and absently pushed him back into the chair. He sputtered. "Now, just a minute here. How do I even know that's the same hypo - assuming there was one in my quarters in the first place?"  
  
"Why would we lie to you, Lieutenant? Check for yourself." Crusher tossed him the hypo.  
  
Walker studied it. It seemed identical to the one he'd brought. He'd marked it to ensure there would be no mix up. "You can't do this."  
  
"Oh no?" Crusher leaned down and whispered directly into his ear, but gazed at Picard. "I'm sure Jean-Luc wouldn't mind leaving us alone for a few minutes."  
  
"Not at all, Doctor. I believe there are some pressing matters on the bridge." Picard began to walk toward the door.  
  
"Then we'd have a simple case of he-said / she-said. And just who do you think Starfleet would believe, Walker?" Crusher moved back over to the desk and contemplated the hypo.  
  
"Now just wait a minute." Walker held up a hand and pointed at Crusher. "Just wait a minute."  
  
"You used me, Walker." Picard stood just near the doors to the bridge. Crusher began to move purposefully toward the Lieutenant, hypo in hand. "Or should I call you Jack?" Crusher reached Walker and laid her hand gently on his jaw, turning his head and exposing his neck to the other hand that was quickly approaching with the hypo in question. A thin line of sweat descended from Walker's hairline down his handsome face. "After all, we've already got everything on the M'dar we need."  
  
"Are you sure about that?" Walker's voice cracked.  
  
Now Crusher whispered again in his ear. Her temper was in full flush, and at its most dangerous. She was quiet, and deathly still. "I think the question is, are *you* sure about that?" She touched the hypo to his neck and looked up at Picard. "What do you think, Jean Luc?"  
  
"Your call, Doctor. Remember, I'm on the bridge." Picard leaned against the wall casually.  
  
"In that case, I think it's time Mr. Walker learned a lesson about playing games with Howard women." She pressed the hypo fully and a familiar hissing sound filled the room. "And the lesson is that Howards always win."  
  
Walker remained tense, every muscle taut. He sat motionless as Picard strolled over to join Crusher, who was reclined on the Captain's desk, a bemused and satisfied look on her face. Seconds ticked past. Walker did not move.  
  
"How are you feeling, Lieutenant?" Crusher raised her eyebrow.  
  
"I, I think I feel fine." Walker examined his hands and arms. "Nothing, nothing's happening."  
  
"Well of course not - remember - there's nothing in the hypo." Crusher rejoined.  
  
"But......."  
  
"But there should be?" Picard chimed in.  
  
"I sure think Walker thought there was." Crusher turned to Picard. "Actually, it's filled with saline."  
  
"Saline?" Walker almost shouted.  
  
"Yes. Saline. It seems we do know more than you about a few things after all, Mr. Walker. Now. How about you start telling us anything and everything you know about the M'dar? Crusher was as serious as a heart attack. "And please don't leave out any boring details."  
  
**********  
  
The Paresi Squares tournament began on schedule that evening. Walker and Crusher arrived together, as cozy as ever. Picard (a bitter look on his face) and the remaining senior staff were seated together with the all other staff who had not participated - ousted contestants comprised their own complete section of the audience.  
  
The semi-final round began, and as Walker stepped into the ring, he waved at Crusher, who waved back demurely. Picard covertly rolled his eyes, and Riker and Troi exchanged loaded glances. Walker, though somewhat less focused than before, had a strong showing and passed to the final round. Immediately after concluding the match, the second semi-final began. At its conclusion, there was a short break, which was filled with lively conversation about the previous matches and speculation regarding the ultimate outcome. It seemed the wagering laid even odds on Walker and a robust young engineering officer.  
  
Finally, the moment of truth arrived. Before stepping into the pitch, Walker embraced Crusher tightly, who responded with a passionate kiss. Picard stood abruptly. Tugging severely at his uniform, he made apologies to a couple of officers and stalked out. As he passed through the empty corridors, he chuckled quietly to himself.  
  
The final match was no disappointment. It was a contest to the end, Walker seeming to have regained his composure. It went into extra rounds, but finally Walker could not keep up with the youthful engineer, who was built but also quite agile. It all ended in thunderous applause, and agreement from all that this year's tournament was perhaps the best yet.  
  
The attendees began to disperse, Walker and the victor caught up in a crowd of well-wishers. Riker headed a celebratory group bound to continue the party in 10 Forward. "Walker, Beverly, will you join us?"  
  
Crusher jumped in quickly. "No thanks, Commander. I've got other plans." Riker looked to Walker, who, for having just heard such an obvious innuendo, seemed ashen. Will shrugged and bustled out with the rest of the revelers.  
  
"We're going to be quite busy tonite, aren't we, Lieutenant?" Crusher took his arm firmly and led him out of the cargo bay. They went directly to his quarters.  
  
"Hurry up." As they entered, Crusher took a seat while Walker headed to the bedroom to change. Promptly he came back out, dressed casually.  
  
"Hope it's comfortable." Crusher looked him over.  
  
"I'll be fine," Walker barked back.  
  
"Whatever. Come on." Crusher waved her arm and they headed back out the door.  
  
Momentarily they arrived outside the brig. Crusher breezed in. "Ladies first."  
  
"Doctor, Lieutenant. How kind of you to join us." Picard stepped away from one of the cells to reveal a very solemn looking man in a command uniform. "Ensign Fraser and I were speaking of the tournament. It seems that he and I both missed the final round. Can you fill us in?"  
  
"Lieutenant Walker fought it to the end, but ultimately ended up the loser. Didn't you Jack?" Crusher smiled primly and regarded the very sullen man.  
  
"I'm quite sorry to have missed that. Fortunately, however, I just happened to be passing through engineering this evening, and discovered young Mr. Fraser here tampering with the warp core." Picard walked over to the security station and picked up a small canister. "I interrupted before he managed to do any serious damage. I suspect, Doctor, that you and Data will find the contents," he handed the container to Crusher, "quite interesting."  
  
Crusher simply raised an eyebrow.  
  
"And now, Mr. Walker, I believe your freedom has come to an end." Picard gestured toward a cell. Walker stepped in, grimacing. The Lieutenant on duty raised the field behind him.  
  
Crusher stepped over to stand beside Picard. They surveyed the two men. Each sat quietly, shoulders slumped. "Not bad for a day's work, Jean-Luc."  
  
"Why thank you Doctor. Now then - I believe there is a celebration in 10 Forward. Shall we join them?" He took her arm.  
  
"By all means, Captain. Lead the way." She turned her head as they exited. "We'll send your regrets, boys."  
  
************ 


	4. SabotageFour

OK, so the M'dar storyline isn't wrapped up. But you know how fickle writing is - it was time to move forward. I've already got the plot for the conclusion in my head, so maybe someday it will find its way out. I left some plot points purposely vague - please let me know if it's confusing. Thanks for R/R!  
  
***********  
  
Sabotage III Chapter Four  
  
***********  
  
"Once again, Captain, I have to congratulate you and your crew. Well done." The compliment seemed to pain Necheyev as she spoke.  
  
"I'll pass on your sentiments, Admiral." Picard's expression was amused. "What is the progress with the M'dar?"  
  
"Your work on the Enterprise has helped us capture the majority of saboteurs in the rest of the fleet. But we can't be certain. The corruption went much further than we'd suspected. To be perfectly honest, Captain, the M'dar have been more successful that Starfleet will ever admit." Necheyev seemed even more put out. It was not a proud moment for Starfleet or the Federation.  
  
"Publicly, in any case." Picard leaned forward. "Admiral." He paused dramatically. Though he would not admit it, the dramatic pause was one of his favorite indulgences. Necheyev waited patiently. "Now that we have uncovered the alliance with the Cardassians, I believe we may have gained the advantage in the situation."  
  
"How so, Captain?" Necheyev was appropriately intrigued.  
  
**********  
  
"All's well that ends well then, Jean-Luc?" Beverly raised her glass.  
  
Picard met her gesture and her eyes, and they both finished what they'd had left in their glasses after dinner.  
  
"We're not quite to the end of the chapter, but I think we may finally outmaneuver the M'dar."  
  
Crusher waved her hand as she stood to clear the table. "Semantics."  
  
Picard chuckled. Unless it happened to be the finer points of the prime directive or a medical matter, Crusher was not one for details. He rose to help, and in minutes they were seated on opposite ends of the sofa.  
  
Beverly smiled. "Shall we be magnanimous in victory, or revel in each of the brilliant details?" Pulling her legs up under her, she giggled. "I particularly enjoyed revealing to Walker that the M'dar were about to sell him up the river. He had no idea they'd double crossed him."  
  
Picard chuckled. "Necheyev seemed pleased." His smile faded and his eyes darkened. "But I would not be so quick to claim the spoils. These past months have cost me something I cherish."  
  
Crusher began to feel apprehensive, a tight ball forming in the pit of her stomach. She traced the rim on her glass of tea with a delicate finger. "Oh?"  
  
Picard's expression was pleasant, but there was much unspoken in his eyes and the lines around them. "I spent more time than I cared to without the company of a good friend."  
  
Now Crusher smiled easily. Picard had deposited them back on firm and familiar ground. Setting her tea on the table, she leaned over and took his hands. They did not speak - they did not need to. The instant before the contact became too significant, Crusher drew back. Her timing was impeccable, and came with practice. Now it was appropriate for her to stand, stretch, and politely excuse herself. But she realized that she was not yet ready to go.  
  
Picard realized that it would be one of their rare late evenings. Infrequently, one or both of them would not be ready to depart so quickly after dinner. Perhaps she had lost a patient that day, or he a crewman. The reasons were various, but the results always precarious. Departing from their typical patterns opened them up to atypical conversations and awkward pauses. At times it seemed there was nothing left unsaid between them - at others there seemed volumes of untold mysteries.  
  
He broke his reverie long enough to notice that she was perched cross- legged on the couch, delicate hands on her lap, merrily twinkling eyes fixed on him. He rose and walked to his desk, her gaze following him curiously. He pulled open a drawer and withdrew a small object that he palmed, and then walked back over to sit again. He opened his hand and held it to her, revealing a bright copper penny, one of the first minted in a Terran nation that had been known as the United States. She laughed as she took it from his hand, and began turning it over in hers.  
  
"It's a replica, unfortunately. It seems the expression survived longer than the artifact."  
  
"Well, it's priceless." She unfolded herself and wrapped him in a hug. "Thank you, Jean-Luc." She sat back and resumed her careful perch. He had opened the door - it was up to her to walk through it. "I suppose it did all come out right in the end. But the road was a rough one. I've been spending a lot of time being very angry at Jack Walker, because I think I'm not ready to accept what will happen when I no longer have that anger."  
  
He regarded her, but did not speak. He sensed that she had more to say. Raw and unsolicited confession was not native to either of them, and fostering it required maintaining an infinitely delicate balance of emotion between the participants.  
  
Crusher turned and gazed out the view port. "I was so mad at you, Jean-Luc. Now I'm not mad at you, but I am furious with myself. And all that anger takes up so much room." She struggled to articulate the swirl of emotions that had encircled her. Then she recklessly thrust herself onto very thin ice, gliding past all the warning posts and ignoring the cracks beneath her. "When Jack died, I felt that same anger. At Jack, Starfleet, you, me, everything and everyone. And it sustained me for so long. When I first came onboard the Enterprise, I was still clinging to shreds of it. Then, I went away to Starfleet Medical, and suddenly I had nothing - nothing at all. The anger was gone - it had been worn away by the friendships and my work on the Enterprise. I realized that I missed the ship, and everyone on it. I missed Wesley. I missed you." She now met his gaze and smiled crookedly. "And despite all that missing, I felt whole again, and I had not experienced that in a long time." Her eyes were desperate.  
  
She was exhausted by the weight of all she had unburdened. Picard recognized the offering for what it was, and wisely did not try to comment. Nothing he had to say would contribute to the significance of another's experience. It was the reason words of comfort so often felt hollow. Instead, he took her hands and met her eyes. "Thank you, Beverly."  
  
For an instant she took back one hand to wipe at an errant tear, but was quick to replace it in his firm grasp. "I suppose you're welcome. But for what I am not sure."  
  
"I suppose you haven't figured it out yet, but you have forgiven me, at least in your heart." He took both her hands in one of his and covered them with the other. "You have forgiven me for more than I ever would have asked. And that is a priceless gift indeed."  
  
This kind of conversation was what arose when they stepped out of the agreed upon boundaries of their relationship. They sat motionless and silent, neither sure about how to continue. Beverly's eyes were clear and crystalline, warmed by the auburn locks that tumbled around her face. Picard's hazel eyes were small, but powerful and beautiful. Their color invariably betrayed his mood to her, and they were now the purest and deepest green.  
  
"Then we're even, Jean-Luc." Her delicate lips parted in a smile. Her words unlocked the spell, and they breathed again. "Well."  
  
An unspoken conversation passed between them, and they rose, acknowledging that the evening had come to a close.  
  
"Breakfast?" She turned to leave before he responded. The question was perfunctory. She knew the answer. As she glided toward the door, he caught her arm. She turned again, her face a mask of surprise her heart did not feel. She knew what he would say now, in the same way she knew the answer to her previous question.  
  
"Beverly." She simply raised an eyebrow. She'd said her peace for the evening. It was his turn.  
  
Suddenly the floor rushed out from under her, and the room flew away. Her heart almost hurt it was beating so hard, and her stomach danced. He was kissing her gently but insistently, and it was wonderful. They flew past the point of chaste, rounded passionate, and careened right into lustful. All the while their contact stayed delicate, his hands on her face and hers on his waist. Crusher heard the familiar klaxons blaring in her head, but instead of willing herself to stop, she simply silenced them.  
  
After what seemed an eternity, they drew apart. She rested her forehead on his and smiled. It was nothing like the tentative kisses they'd shared after dinner at the starbase. It was his promise, and she had accepted.  
  
They stood apart, holding hands. His deep baritone rumbled. "Breakfast."  
  
She squeezed his hands before letting them fall to his side. Touching his jaw one last time, she turned to the door. "I wouldn't miss it. And if you know what's good for you, neither will you, Jean Luc." The doors whirred into place behind her, leaving Jean-Luc flatfooted and beaming.  
  
On her way back to her quarters, Crusher favored anyone still out that late with a brilliant smile.  
  
*********  
  
End  
  
*********  
  
Easy time will determine if these consolations  
  
Will be there reward  
  
The arc of a love affair  
  
Waiting to be restored  
  
You take two bodies and you twirl them into one  
  
Their hearts and their bones  
  
And they won't come undone  
  
Hearts and bones  
  
"Hearts and Bones" Paul Simon - www.paulsimon.com 


End file.
